Operation Meteor
by Hareta
Summary: Pairings undecided. AU-ish. The Gundam Pilots didn't come to Earth not knowing about each other during the Operation Meteor-- the boys had actually spent quite some time with each other, training for their mission. A look on the friendships developed duri
1. Default Chapter

**Operation Meteor**

**Prologue: Arrival at L1**

The flight to L1 from L4 only took about sixteen hours at most. Still, sixteen hours was enough to make most people, especially a young teenager like himself, restless. The blonde stepped out of the shuttle as soon as he could and took a deep breath of fresh air. 

'_It's not real air_,' he reminded himself as he descended the stairs at a moderate pace. Air in the colonies was generated by the colonies, no different than the air inside a shuttle or an office. 'Real air' only belonged to Earth, you can say, but still...and if such was true, then people like him, born in the colonies and never had visited the Earth, did not know real air. '_Yet here I am breathing._' 

A frown ghosted over his lips as soon as his feet touched L1's ground. Using 'going on a vacation' as a front, he had really gone here for an entirely different reason. Without much ado, _they_ had explained to him that he was about to meet the rest of the people in his mission and that he would be training with them. His order came in a plain statement: Go to L1. 

Which was a lot harder than it sounded when you're the sole son of a multi-billionaire. 

How was he to escape his bodyguards? One idea occurred to him, but he dismissed it quickly with a mental shake of the head. Just because he could…ah…disable his so-called protectors didn't mean he actually wanted to do just that. And where would he go after anyway? _They_ had only told him to 'go to L1'. No other directions, no nothing. 

'_Maybe that's just it, I came here for nothing_,' he mused with some measure of a feeling he really couldn't describe. He watched as they got his things out from inside the private shuttle. There wasn't that much. He had always preferred to travel light and he doubted he would be able to bring any of them wherever it was he was going anyway. Some of his clothes and what personal items he needed were already in the suitcase beside him. 

A beeping sound caught his attention in the next second. Smiling and nodding his thanks to the man who handed him his laptop, he lightly tapped it open and came face to face with his own father. He mentally warded off any guilt from showing on his face. 

Eyes took a quick look at his computer's clock. He was yet to re-set it to match that of L1's. "Good Morning, Father," he greeted, forcing as much cheerfulness into his words as he could but not so much. His father, though a paternal enough person, was not a very emotional one. 

"Ah, I see you've arrived well. Had a good trip?" He didn't seem as if he really cared. Although he might have, the question appeared more of courtesy, asked only because it was expected to be done so. 

"Yes, but I'm glad it's over. I imagine my stay here would be much more pleasant," his answer came, equally typical. Months long training would certainly not be 'pleasant'. If anything else it would have to be the complete opposite. 

A few more words exchanged and once again work robbed him of his father. It would be awhile until the next time they speak, if ever again. He sighed and asked that a cab be hailed to take him to a hotel. Perhaps he would start out early tomorrow, find out where it was he was supposed to be, and even loose his guardians. 

A taxi came into view, right behind a young man riding a motorcycle but he paid the latter no mind. That is, until the motorcycle went past without slowing down and its rider easily grabbed his suitcase as if he had simply walked past. As if a silent order had been given, his sentinels left their positions and filed into the car after the mysterious rider. 

'_Some soldier I'm going to make. Letting a petty thief steal my stuff right under my nose_,' he thought as he watched both taxi and motorcycle ride away. For all his self-disgust however, he didn't miss the muffled groan that came from behind him. Or the unusual calmness among those of his guards who had been left. Normally, they'd be flanking him now…. 

He whirled around with a kick that would have hit his attacker's side and send him flying through the air, but his silent war cry turned into a startled gasp as a hand deftly caught his leg. Shaking himself free, he found his wrist held instead and the next moment had him running, led by his assailant. He would have retaliated but his other hand held his laptop in safety and that was the only thing he had to communicate with _them_. 

He followed silently, trying not to trip. The person before him was definitely quick and agile, more so than him. He tried to find out what he looked like but all he could tell was that the man was taller than him and that his hair was mustard brown. He didn't say a word until he was shoved into the back of a small dark blue car. 

"Who are you and what do you want from me?" he asked the person in the driver's seat in front, another brunette. The guy just grunted and didn't even turn around. The door of the passenger seat swung open and the one from before slipped in. "Answer me!" he demanded, a trifle nervous now that he was unsure if he could fend off both of them when he couldn't even handle one. 

"Calm down. We mean you no harm," a soft baritone spoke as the brunette on the passenger side turned around to face him. The prepared protest never left his lips as one deep forest green eye looked straight at him. The other was hidden by rich brown hair that fell in a unibang which covered almost half of his face. He felt the car come to life and pull out into the road but barely cared. Somehow, that voice assured him he was safe. "I'm Trowa, Trowa Barton from L3. He's Heero Yuy from L1. And you're the one from L4?" 

"Quatre, Quatre Raberba Winner," he said, nodding his head. He watched Heero drive with one hand on the steering wheel and reach for the carphone with his other hand. He pressed a button then brought it up to his ear. 

"Mission accomplished." 

**to be continued....**

Disclaimers: I don't own Gundam Wing. 

**Author's Notes:**

1. I got this idea from Trowa's line in Endless Waltz: "This is how Operation Meteor should have been carried out." (Or something like that). He meant they should have done OM as a team, unlike what happened (in the TV series)-- they hadn't known about each other at all! 

2. It's not my first time to write a GW fanfiction, but it _has_ been awhile since I've last. Kindly please point out any mistakes. Reviews, even flames, are welcome! 


	2. Chapter 1: The Five Boys

**Operation Meteor**

**Chapter 1: The Five Boys**

"Losers!" he said under his breath, gleefully watching the men down below search for him in the trash bins that stood against the walls of the 'dead end' he had ran into. Jumping down from one such wall right before one of them thought of looking up, he walked around the block to where he had ditched his bike earlier.

'_Crap_,' he thought as soon as he caught sight of his bike lying on the concrete pavement. Easily righting the rather heavy-looking motorcycle, he licked one finger and used the dampened digit to rub at a scratch. No use. It must have gotten the scratch during the fall. With a sigh, he lifted the seat and tossed the suitcase into the compartment, closed it and then got on. 

"Mission accomplished," a deep voice came through static. He grinned as he flipped the speaker's switch off and increased the bike's speed, anxious to get back. Around five minutes passed and he suddenly pulled into the garage of an inconspicuous building off to the side of the road. Mere seconds after he had killed his engine, a small dark blue car came rolling in. 

"Beat ya!" he sang as a brunette around his height and age stepped out from the driver's side. The person just looked back at him impassively.

"Did you get his things?" the newcomer asked, the same voice that had spoken earlier over the speaker. 

"Of course!" he replied, feigning a hurt expression. Switching to a grin, he turned around and got the suitcase out. From the other side of the car, a brunette and a blonde walked around towards them. The brunette he knew, the blonde kid he didn't. Extremely rich by the looks of his clothes alone though. "You sure we got the right guy, Trowa?" he asked as he handed the suitcase over to the bewildered blonde. "Seems to me we snatched a millionaire instead."

"We did. Don't worry," Trowa replied in his quiet tones. He shrugged, turning his attention to the other brunette who was already well on his way inside. He didn't bother to shout out at the guy. He would either be ignored or just grunted at anyway.

"Excuse me, but, uh, who is he, Trowa?" a meek voice suddenly asked which immediately caused a grin to break on his face. Not that there wasn't one there to begin with. He waited eagerly for the answer, wondering if one of the 'Oh, Silent Ones' would actually _speak_. They only spoke when they really had to and needed tremendous persuasion otherwise. The last days had been horrible for a social person like him, so to speak. He was glad for a change in company, or an addition to it anyway. And--

"Duo Maxwell from L2. Duo, this is Quatre Raberba Winner from L4."

He stared, dumbfounded. He spoke! He didn't seriously think he would! After that minor shock, or major some might say, another came, once Trowa's words struck home to his slowly catching up brain.

"Quatre Raberba _Winner_!" he all but exclaimed, turning large eyes at the blonde boy. No wonder he looked filthy rich. Fact was, he really was.

"Uh...yeah. Nice to meet you, Duo," Quatre replied with a look that could pass as embarrassed, trying to hold on to both laptop and suitcase with one hand, while offering the other for a shake. Duo immediately grabbed it and pumped it up and down vigorously, then took back the suitcase.

"I'll help you with this. Wow. You would be the last person I'd expect to find here..." 

Quatre looked mighty comfortable. "Uh, no thanks," he said, taking the case back. Duo was too deep in thought that he barely noticed. He bit on his lower lip in hesitation. "Uh, Duo?" Duo turned around. "Um...please...I'm just another pilot here, like you guys." 

His violet eyes widened slightly in understanding. Duo broke into another one of his grins. "Sure,...Cat!"

"Thanks." Quatre grinned back with only the slightest bit of reluctance. They followed Trowa, who had gone after Heero, inside. Soon, the blonde found himself pinned under the obsidian glare of a young Chinese. Son of a billionaire he was, and in front of the camera more often than he would like, he still found himself intimidated by the look. 

"Come on, Wu! Stop that!" Duo whined, noticing his discomfort. He flashed the braided boy a small smile as Duo turned to look at him. 

"Hn. I told you not to call me that, Maxwell," 'Wu' snapped almost instantly, as if it wasn't the first time. And it probably wasn't. 

"Tch, you're no fun." Duo pouted, but he brightened quickly enough. He looked to be 'Wu's' complete antithesis, with his cheerful smile and jolly, almost giddy, demeanor. "Anyway, Quatre, this is Wufei Chang, from L5. Wu, this is--" 

"I told you not to call me that," Wufei interrupted, glaring. The glare didn't die down as he sharply turned his eyes to Quatre. "You took your time. At least, you finally came. Nice meeting you, Winner." Then the Chinese abruptly turned around to retreat back into the room he came from. Before he could however... 

"Hey, how'd you know his name!" a loud question from Duo. 

"You'd know too if you actually _listen_ to the finer details during the briefings to _your_ missions," Wufei replied before the door closed behind him. 

"Well, there you have it, the last of the three members of the 'Oh, Silent Ones.' Heero's one, and then of course Trowa here-- hey, wait, where'd he go? Tro?" 

"He went to place zero-four's things in his room," a new voice answered, seeming to come from in front and behind and all sides all at once. Quatre scanned the entire room but found no one. He raised an eyebrow. Intercom? 

"Cat, over here," Duo motioned him over to what looked like an ordinary vid-phone. Fuzzy static on a blue background was all the screen showed however. Duo looked at him expectantly and Quatre shrugged, caught sight of the vid-phone's keypad, and inputted the code he had been taught before he left L4. The keypad lit up a greenish hue, and then the static cleared to show the features of an old man with grey hair and wearing glasses. 

"Dr. J," Quatre greeted with a polite smile. He had met the scientist before, on one of his visits to L4. They always said it was to personally see the progress being made on his Gundam, but Quatre knew it was more so to check up on him. Not that he was being immodest, but more than once he had been told in the past that a suit's strength or weakness was the pilot. And Dr. J often ran those strange tests on him. All in all, he decided, that was what lead to this group training with the other pilots. 

"I'm glad you arrived safely. There weren't _that_ many problems, I hope?" Dr. J asked and Quatre had a hard time surpressing a laugh over the second-delay on the visuals that the face on the screen didn't match the audio. More so when Duo saw the problem and moved over to hit the vid-phone. 

"No-- there were none, sir," Quatre managed to answer, stilling Duo's hands by grabbing on to them. The sound of an automatic door sliding open came from behind and he figured it was the one leading to the room Wufei was in. 

"Alright then, Wufei will take you on a tour around the facility and I'd be seeing all of five of you tomorrow morning," The connection was cut off before he could get another word in. However, Dr. J's face remained on the screen. 

"Duo, what did he mean he'll be seeing us?" Quatre asked, turning to his new friend. He figured they already were and not just comrades. Duo seemed the kind to befriend anybody. 

"Not ome of us has seen him personally since we came here. Only Heero knows where the old man is, and he'll die before he'd tell us," Duo replied, giving the machine in front of them one last hit as soon as he got free of Quatre's hold on him. The image turned to static and the braided boy switched it off. "Jesus, someone really has to fix that thing, or something." 

"It was alright before you came here, Maxwell," Wufei's sharp voice entered their conversation and the two turned around to face him. He didn't looked pleased. "You heard our instructions. Let's go, Winner." 

_**to be continued...**_

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Gundam Wing. 


End file.
